Summer of Us

Chapter 3

Summer at home turns out not to be so bad. I start working part time at an art supply store owned by a SCAD graduate, which is kind of cool. Store hours are limited, as the business is so new and we're in competition with the local Michael's and Hobby Lobby for prices and general public awareness that our store even exists. Tess, my boss, has a mission statement where you get recommendations from real working artists and specialized supplies for your unique project. Also her loft above the shop is dope, crowded with half-finished portraits, a paint splattered easel, crazed works on the walls and mismatched furniture that suits her personality. She has a grand opening party and shows off the space, plus the upstairs terrace that's lush with plants and rustic string lights.

Trent and Star accompany me to said party, plus pretty much every other outing. Sometimes it's just Trent, sometime it's just Star, depending on work schedules, but when I get them both together we park at Peak Point and jam out to old Sum 41 albums. We frequent the arcade out by the Five Guys, make day excursions to the city, and find ourselves at parties we would never be invited to a year prior. Star and Trent seem to be over the shock of hanging out with other kids that never deemed us cool enough to come, but now they just sit back and occasionally chat with whoever passes by.

It's almost like old times, minus Monty.

He doesn't text me after seeing be at Hitchker's that night, not that I expected him to. What could he possibly say anyways? It just made me feel lonelier than I care to admit, especially now that Trent and Star are dating. Sure, I'm included in everything that they do, but I never realized how close they had gotten back then, since I always had Monty to fall back on.

I adopted Monty into our group shortly after his arrival into town junior year. At the time I had been an office aid, the period filled with making copies, sorting paperwork and mail, plus whatever other tasks Mrs. Falls decided to give me for the day. Monty started a week in, his first day the same as this massive fight that had apparently broken out at breakfast. The principle, vice principle, and every other faculty member that wasn't teaching a class or calling parents were busy sorting out the situation, and Mrs. Falls, flustered and running round like a barn animal, had given me permission to log onto her computer, retrieve his schedule and show him around the school.

Monty had sat in the waiting area while I pulled up his transcripts and his ready-made schedule, dressed in tattered clothing and combat boots. Taking one look at him, I knew he'd be ignored by the general population here, especially starting anew his junior year. So I printed his schedule and took him out of the hectic office, where Principle Pat could be heard all but yelling from his office.

I gave Monty the spiel I imagine Mrs. Falls would deem worthy, showing him the complicated maze of his classes, mentioning that we share some, and that he's welcome to sit with me and my friends if he wants. Out of the whole sheet, I'm surprised to find that he's in art with me, an advanced class that usually required a year prerequisite.

"So what are you?" I had asked, swinging around the lanyard that had my ID and office keys. I'd always been obnoxious about my office aid position, as it made me privy to inside information and trusted among adults who normally didn't interact with the students.

Eaves Montgomery, who he had before said went by Monty, drags his attention away from the track bulletin board. We're in a long hallway, a mix of science, arts, and history classes, all in no particular order. Half the numbers had fallen off the plaques outside each room, so only veterans of the school knew where everything was. Newbies like him were like a fish out of water. "What?"

"Painter, sculptor, wood work?" I say, pointing at the art class on his schedule, which he'd already folded up and managed to wrinkle. "They don't give that art class to just anybody."